Ella’s POV“Mom, I can’t let her win the election,” I said again, my voice tighter this time, like saying it louder would somehow make it more real.I didn’t even want to be in her diner. The place was always busy at this hour, full of noise, clattering plates, the smell of fried food and strong coffee mixing together in a way that usually made me hungry. But today, it only made my stomach twist. I had rushed here after school because I couldn’t sit with the thoughts alone. I couldn’t wait until night when she would finally come home exhausted, because by then I would probably already be asleep, and I needed someone to hear me while everything still felt raw.“Mom, I think she is going for the post because she knew I was going for it too,” I added, lowering my voice a little. Saying it out loud made me feel worse. It sounded childish, but I couldn’t help it. The idea of Sara winning made something heavy settle in my chest, like I was already losing something I hadn’t even fully fought
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